


Mulled Wine and Kisses

by Saraste



Series: Holiday ficlets 2016 [24]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: 2016 Holiday Ficlets, Braids, Fluff, M/M, Mulled wine, Solstice, nwalin - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 19:46:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9008557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saraste/pseuds/Saraste
Summary: Dwalin makes the best mulled wine, Nori has a hard time convincing him of it.





	

Dwalin makes the very best mulled wine, rich and delicious with spices, steaming hot, that Nori has ever tasted. And Dwalin must never tell this to Dori. Not that Dwalin ever really believes Nori’s laudations.

 

Nori gives Dwalin a warm smile as he wraps his fingers around a steaming mug of the mulled wine as it’s passed onto him, feeling the warmth seep all through his fingers. Dwalin stands next to him, nudging at his side. They’re standing by their fire, enjoying it’s warmth, especially now in the mid-winter cold.

 

‘Good?’ Dwalin asks, as he always does. He  _ has _ tasted Dori’s mulled wine, and never does quite believe Nori’s laudations over his own, so Nori must convince him every single time. It’s such an oft-repeated routine that it is a tradition by now, more than anything. 

 

Nori presses against Dwalin’s side, smiles up at him, letting his lips spread in a wider smile, letting his eyes sparkle. ‘Good. You make the  _ best _ mulled wine in all of Erebor.’

 

Dwalin blushes, as he always does, and ducks his head. The sight of the big burly warrior,  _ Nori’s big burly warrior _ , always makes Nori feel a warmth burn through him. Because this, a blushing Dwalin, is a side of him no-one else never gets to see. (Although Nori has his suspicions over Balin, maybe Thorin.) ‘You only say that because ---’

 

Nori’s finger on Dwalin’s lips stops his words, Nori cradles his mug against his chest as he lays his head against Dwalin’s broad shoulder. ‘I only say it because it’s true, you silly big dwarf.’

 

‘Nori…’

 

‘ _ My silly big dwarf _ …’ Nori purrs, warmed by something else besides the hot spicy wine now, as he lets himself think of it. And Dwalin  _ is _ . Bears Nori’s russet hair in his courting braid, woven deftly in by Nori’s nimble fingers, fixed with Nori’s bead. And Nori has Dwalin’s darker hair woven into his own russet mane,  in a braid Dwalin loves to handle, to kiss when they are in the privacy of their bedroom, for to do so out of it would be almost the same as if they fucked in the street with the level of scandal it would cause. Braids, courting braids and marriage one’s, are to be worn in public and handled in private.

 

A big hand cups Nori’s cheek, makes him look up, raise his chin, and Dwalin presses a warm spicy kiss onto his waiting lips. Nori kisses back, not hungrily as he so often does, with abandon, but not without feeling put into the soft intimate kiss. They come apart after a few quickened heart-beats. Sip their mulled wine. Look at the roaring flames.

 

‘You know that I’m right,’ Nori adds, finally. 

 

Dwalin doesn’t contradict him. He never does. If he did, Nori would fuck the truth out of him anyway, later, when the wine has been drunk and they celebrate the Solstice in the privacy of their bedroom, where Dwalin can kiss Nori’s braids all he wants and Nori can do with him whatever Dwalin allows.


End file.
